


Taking Tea And Making Friends

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan





	Taking Tea And Making Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).



Teyla finds that every culture moves in its own rhythms. There is an ebb and flow to the efforts of their labour, to their time spent in leisure, to their sharing of meals, and it moves in a rhythm by the movement of the sun.

Now that she lives among the Lanteans, she strives to match their rhythms.

It is not always easy.

At this time, Teyla is usually eating the evening meal, sitting among her people in the communal tent, talking and listening and watching and learning. This is a time for the Athosians to come together, to share their news and the events of the day, to laugh and plan and prepare and connect with each other and reaffirm their bonds to each other.

Many of the Lanteans also gather together at this time of night. Some of them are eating, but many have already taken their food in the ‘mess hall’ or ‘cafeteria’, and they do not gather to share stories, but to observe the stories of others in captured visual form.

Teyla watched those shows and sports, wondering at the technology that allows the capture of movement and light to repeat over and over again – a recording, the Lanteans call it – and it is indeed a fascinating and wonderful thing, but it does not replace the sense of connection she felt with her people, sitting among them, letting the sense of them flow around her in comforting familiarity.

In the absence of the familiar, Teyla chooses to go looking at the unfamiliar. The passages of Atlantis are not always safe – as Jinto’s release of the shadow-creature proves – but she keeps to the known corridors and rooms in the city, if not the well-travelled ones.

As Teyla wanders through the corridors, she feels like a child again, wandering free and easy through the woods, aware but not wary. The public spaces of Atlantis are beautiful, their designs and decoration speaking of artistry, of consideration for mood and mindfulness, and while the patterns hold a similarity, even to Teyla’s untrained eye they are not all the same. Perhaps it is something to mention to the Lanteans who specialise in patterns? They may have already seen it, but they may not, and if Teyla mentions it as something new, then that is a new discovery made.

She turns a corner and hesitates.

The delicate scent of something floral-herbal and fragrant wafts down the hallway.

Teyla continues on, intrigued. It is not the scent of cooking, nor of the fermenting of alcohol. In fact it smells rather like tea...

She pauses at the door of the open room, taking in the occupant, the padded blanket, the cushion, the basket, and the steaming pot with a single cup sitting beside it.

Dr. Weir smiles from her position seated on the floor. “Teyla. Hello.”

“Dr. Weir. I am sorry to have interrupted your solitude...”

“It’s not an unwelcome interruption.” A gesture invites her in. “Unless you’re looking for some peace and quiet yourself.”

“Not at all.” Teyla comes alongside Dr. Weir and drops down to a sitting position. “And peace may be achieved with company as well as on one’s own.”

“Depending on the company.”

Their smiles answer each other in wry acknowledgement of the energy that Dr. McKay expends in fretting and fussing. A good man, but neither a quiet one nor terribly peacful.

Teyla studies the view Dr. Weir was contemplating. It is not a full horizon of the ocean, but one which affords the sight of one of Lantea’s moons rising up over the water, the great, golden globe trembling in the reflection of the sea.

“So, Major Sheppard mentioned that you like tea,” Dr. Weir says, rummaging around in the basket. “Would you like to try some from Earth?”

“Yes, please.”

A glazed pottery cup is produced and Dr. Weir pours tea from a long cylindrical container of metal – a ‘thermos’, Major Sheppard calls it, which insulates from hot and cold – then hands it to Teyla, who takes it and wonders if she should ask if there is some specific ceremony that is required. Dr. Weir does not appear to have expectations of her – her expression is easy and patient as she waits for Teyla to taste the tea.

In the cup the scent is more floral than it seemed when Teyla was walking down the corridor, but the taste of it is sweetly herbal on her tongue, yet bracing as she swallows.

“What type of tea is this?”

“Osmanthus tea. Originally from a country on Earth called China.”

“It’s lovely.” Teyla sips it again and lets the flavour and scent seep into her senses. “I had heard from one of the scientists in Dr. McKay’s labs that there are whole ceremonies surrounding the drinking of tea?”

“Dr. Kusanagi,” Dr. Weir says immediately. “Yes. She’s Japansese in background – a country near China but much smaller. And yes, both Japan and China have old rituals regarding the serving of tea at special occasions – weddings and other such events. But the ritual as as much about offering hospitality to a guest as it is about the drink itself, and it’s repeated over and over throughout Earth – maybe not in matters of drink, but in meals and sharing them, or even simple greeting.”

“Being willing to partake of the customs of others,” Teyla mumurs. She thought of Colonel Sumner, who had refused her offer to drink tea with her people, dismissing them as primitives with nothing to offer. It was Major Sheppard who’d looked at them and seen the possibilities beyond the material – who’d seen the Athosians as people, rather than as a resource that .

“Making connections.”

Teyla looks over at Dr. Weir, surprised that the Lantean has couched it so formally. “Making friendships.”

The other woman blinks, as though a little started. Then she smiles, but with a twist to her lips, as though Teyla has chided her. Yet her words are easy. “Yes. Making friendships.”

They sit and watch the moonrise together

 


End file.
